


Communication and Cream

by netherprince



Series: The King and I and Him [2]
Category: X-Ray & Vav (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, Food, M/M, Multiplicity/Plurality, au where jon is a villain, hey i wrote a sequel, hey look they actually get cuddly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 23:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netherprince/pseuds/netherprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>food continues to be a running sequence. ryan still can't talk to jon without the king helping him and also being a threatening dick. this is fluffflufffluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication and Cream

Ryan blinks awake, and there's a solid warmth under his arm.

That's weird for him, because, well. Usually, the warmth is at his back... and a product of a desperately alone brain trying to protect him. But... no.

No, this is real. There's sweat and blood and something sterile in the air, and in the hair his head rests against, and he's struggling to catch back up when he sees the blue mask on his bedtable. Jon. Right. Of course. When he flexes his hands awake, there's bandages on spit knuckles, and that really jogs his memory- Rising and the King were having a very stern disagreement with the police, Ryan had to take his fellow villain home because the police did not come to see their point of view. Of course. When do they ever?

He supposes it's the King's fault there's alcohol left on his breath. Ryan hates the stuff, but the King, in all his protective glory, can be swayed. Especially in the face of pain. It was one of those blurry nights, even without the sauce, leaving them swaying in a weird tango around Jon.

Jon. 

Ryan sighs, brushing his bandaged knuckles over a bruised cheek. God. He doesn't know what he's gonna do about this guy, honestly. He seems friendly enough, for another villain, and hasn't started ranting and raving about fucked up he is... Plus, the King hasn't killed him yet. That usually is a fairly simple preventative measure against things like 'are friends something I can manage?' 

Sighing in annoyance, he rolls flat on his back, closing his eyes. Maybe just... Maybe just a little more sleep before he has to deal with reality. He's allowed.

* * *

 

The next thing he knows, there's a cracked open ribcage curled around his own and bony fingers caressing his face. Ryan's used to this dream. The King being overprotective, handsy, needy. It's the side effect of having a very loyal hunting dog. What's new is that when his head sags down, Jon is smiling up at him with teeth like daggers, too many hands to track pulling him out of the safety of the King's body, and Ryan doesn't know, he doesn't know, he's scrabbling to hold onto breaking bones but they're cutting up his hands-

Maybe he shouldn't take naps, he decides, chest heaving as he stares up at the ceiling. God, he doesn't want any of this. Ryan's not built for emotional attachments, but he's fond of Jon all the same. 

"You sound like you're having a heart attack. If you die, can I have this bed? It's great." Right. Jon actually exists and isn't just an idea he's attached to. He rubs at his eyes, and something about this is calming enough that his shoulders slump back into relaxation, and it's good. It's good to have someone here. "Hey, earth to Ryan. Or. Um. King? I mean, King is usually a lot more intense, but I dunno about mornings, so-"

"-No, it's me. You're right, he's definitely got the dark and brooding part down pat. You should see what he looks like, sometime. It's ridiculous." Discounting the fact that Ryan doesn't actually look like the body he fits into. Jon's getting that 'i'm not a system what are you saying' look again, but it's less annoying now.

"He doesn't, uh, look like you?"

"Nah. Kinda like a weird... skeleton king. He's a mess." Reaching over Jon, Ryan grabs his phone to flick through sketchy pictures. Art isn't exactly his high point, but when you have the money and the ability to commission people who are good at it, well. That's why Jon gets to look at Ryan's phone, gets to see the grim fucking reaper of kings. His eyebrows go up, but he just props himself up on those extra hands, taking a closer look. "I know, a much more villainous look than my pretty mug. I was going to be a model."

That gets a laugh, and Ryan shakes his head, then nods furiously. "Yeah! I was! Come on, I could totally be a model. But they wanted me to be a gnome, and, well, I wasn't into i-" He's being drowned out by Jon's laughter, and Ryan gets swept into joining him, taking his phone back before the other villain can start really digging into it. "I didn't do it!" He did. "The pay wasn't worth it." It was. "I hated it, anyways." Finally, a truth. 

"I bet you would have been a cute gnome. Or a shirt model, Mr. Torso-Like-a-Dorito. Not sure if your pal would have been as good of one. But, hey, he's got a face for radio." There's a smirk, and Ryan exaggerates his huffiness, pushing out of bed. 

_"Fuck off, Jon."_  Oops. Both bodies stiffen up for a moment, because there was too much growl in that and Ryan certainly didn't say it. For a moment, he worries that he's going to be pushed aside, that Jon is going to be scared of him. But all that ends up happening is Jon laughing his way out of bed and onto the floor, and the King rumbling from beside the throne. Yeah, alright, this is fine. This is fine.

 

This is fine.

Ryan keeps telling himself that for the next week, as a pattern emerges. The King and Rising get into shit, Ryan is awkward around Jon, and they don't wake up alone in bed most days. There's a new charger in his floor, scattered vests and ties and shoes. Jon knows that Ryan likes Diet Coke and has bad taste in shoes, Ryan knows that Jon is much more skilled in everything related to social interactions than him.

Look, Ryan can play a silver tongue. He can lie, doublecross, manipulate.

But he can barely hold a conversation when he and Jon are eating dinner together. The King laughs at him and takes mercy, shouldering him over, letting him rest.

_"Why are you staying here, Jon? I'm sure you have better places to be. You haven't even asked to see secrets. Don't you know it's rude to try to fuck us over while leading poor Ryan on?"_ Oh, god, why did Ryan let this happen. He's too tired to push back, though, and the King continues on.  _"I'm not interested in letting him get hurt, Rising. If I need to kill you, tell me and it'll be quick."_

Jon blinks only in surprise- maybe not just surprise. Maybe disbelief, or betrayal. Facial cues aren't the King's strong point. "...My place is a shithole, to put it politely. The cops had an idea of where I was. My wi-fi was godawful, and I could never get a good picture of  _Your Highness._  Now I'm fed, I'm warm, and I can actually make decent updates." A pause, and a laugh, and the King stares in his tired, dead way. "My patreon has exploded since I started living here, because you two are a lot more interesting than anyone else around this city."

He goes on, not giving the King a chance to cut in. "People love hearing about my big loving boyfriend with the soft blue eyes just as much as they love hearing about Rising's terrifying partner who disemboweled a lesser villain without a care in the world."

'I'm his boyfriend?' Is all Ryan squeaks from headspace, feeling mortified that he found out after most of the city already knew. The King just looks on passively, slowly quirking an eyebrow.

_"If you hurt Ryan, Andy won't be the only one with snow on his gravestone this winter, Risinger."_

"Loud and clear, King. Now, hurry up and pass the parmesean before the pasta gets cold, you asshole."

_"You don't even need me to pass it, Mr. Arms."_

"It's rude to reach!"

 

The last time Ryan tried to have some kind of relationship with a singlet, he had an awful time. He couldn't let King front. He couldn't mention him. The guy just wasn't interested, didn't want to hear about how fucked up his hot boyfriend was. He just wanted that pretty face around. 

It worked, for awhile.

Ryan, trying to enjoy the company. The closeness.

Him, glad his boyfriend was acting normal.

The King, snapping, lashing out.

Him, falling from their shitty apartment to land in a splat.

Ryan, feeling nothing but positive.

Maybe that was when villainy seemed like the best choice. It was just so easy to lash out. It felt good to hurt. It felt good to be in control. And, in the quiet, dark places of his mind, he can admit that it wasn't just the King fronting in that moment. He can admit that he was the one grinning.

So, they got their crown. They flushed the meds they were on. They took every scrap of scientific knowledge, all the money they had, and ran off to this city. This undiscovered kingdom.

 

Every once in awhile, it's not revenge that brings out both inhabitants into a fusion of the shadowed mind. Sometimes, it's something as simple as whipped cream being flicked onto a cheekbone. King Ryan wipes it off and licks it from their thumb, eyes dark and smile wide, almost a bearing of pathetically dull teeth. It's the first time they've seen Jon falter in awhile. "...Rye? Uh, I guess foodfights are off the table, I, uh, sorry-"

The apologies are cut off by Jon getting chocolate pudding lobbed at him, cut off by the hoarse, rough, happy laugh that rattles out. The smaller villain takes one look at his old, messy shirt and starts cackling, too, seizing his spoon and loading another shot of cream. "Oh, so that's how we're playing, huh, you two? Fuck it!" 

No one wins. However, also, they all bring home the gold. King Ryan wipes chocolate off Jon's arm and licks it up, humming in contentment, while Jon is stealing what's left of the bowl. In the private part of his mind, Ryan decides he should show Jon to the boys, soon. They'll love him. The King is preoccupied with enjoying tactile sensations, even the silly things like Jon kissing whipped cream off their cheek. It's good to let your guard down. Just sometimes, maybe, but it needs to happen. They need to breathe. 

"We should have dessert more often."

**Author's Note:**

> king ryan is what happens when ryan and he king 'fuse' at the front and usually doesnt last very long  
> they still see themselves as separate, but they're both. there. together. it's weird. don't question it   
> ryan is pretty normal ryan voice, the king is gravelly, and king ryan just doesnt really talk  
> we'll be meeting new little shits in the next one


End file.
